


Sleepovers

by slpblue



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: College AU, I swear this is the sassiest Sasstrick I've ever written, M/M, Pining, joetrick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7927261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slpblue/pseuds/slpblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the AU prompt: my roommate has their boyfriend over so can I please sleep on your floor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepovers

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my friend cause she was craving some Joetrick. I added some scenes and made it less terrible and now offer it to you. :)

At first Joe thinks he’s just imagining the soft knock on the door.  It’s so quiet he can’t be sure it wasn’t just the walls creaking, so he ignores it for now.  He’s almost asleep, drifting off into a much-deserved slumber, when it comes again, a bit louder, a bit more insistent.  There’s definitely someone there.

For a moment, the pull of the warm cocoon of his blanket is powerful enough to keep him in bed.  And then the person knocks again.  Joe sighs.  “Damn it,” he mutters, slipping out of his covers—he’s careful to leave them pulled up so they retain their warmth—and takes his throw blanket with him.  It’s cold in the dorm, so he wraps it around his shoulders during his shuffle to the door.

There’s another knock.  “For fuck’s sake,” Joe says crossly, flinging open the door, “I’m coming, calm your t—oh.  Um.  Hey.”  He swallows.   _ Oh _ .  It’s that really cute kid.  The one he may or may not have a huge gigantic galactic-sized crush on.

Said cute kid pushes his glasses up his nose—which he crinkles  _ adorably _ —and glances past Joe’s shoulder into his room, then back to his face.  He also has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and Joe can’t help but think,  _ It’s destiny _ .  “I’m sorry, uh, Joe?  But Pete—my roommate—he brought back his boyfriend and, well—can I sleep on your guys’ floor or something?  I don’t want to sleep in the hall and no one else would answer their door.  Or they told me to fuck off.”  He shrugs ruefully.

_ Holy shit holy shit holy shit.  Patrick fucking knows your name.  This is not a drill.  I repeat, this is not a drill. _  “Uh, yeah, sure.  Whatever.”  Joe leans against the door frame and tries to act nonchalant.

Patrick raises a thin eyebrow— _ oh my god look at that scar it’s so cute what the fuck this has got to be illegal _ —and glances Joe up and down.  “You trying to be cool or something?”

Joe doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast—or so clumsily—pushing himself off the door frame and running a shaky hand through his wild hair.  Patrick’s eyes track the movement.  “Um.  No.  Come in.”  He closes the door gently behind Patrick, who looks around curiously.  “Sorry about the mess,” Joe apologizes, shoving some papers underneath some other papers and kicking his jeans under his bed.

Patrick smiles, all crinkly, and Joe maybe melts a little bit.  “It’s fine.  You should see how Pete gets.  It’s at least ten times worse.

Joe laughs.  “Sounds like a pain.”

“Oh he is,” Patrick confirms solemnly.  “Biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met.  But he’s Pete.”

“Yeah,” Joe agrees.  He’s met him.  He gets it.  You can’t help but like the guy, and he and Patrick are practically attached at the hip. “Yeah.”

Patrick is looking at him rather expectantly, and Joe just stares back for a moment.  Wow his eyes are pretty.  He’s never been able to decide if they are blue or green.  “So.”  Patrick breaks the silence with a slight cough.  “Where should I stay?”

“Oh, oh sorry.”  Joe mentally slaps himself.  “You can just stay on Mikey’s bed if you want.  He won’t care.  I don’t know where he is right now but if he’s out this late he doesn’t come back ‘til the next...what?”

Patrick is laughing, reaching up to rub at one of his sleepy eyes with his hand.  “That son of a bitch.”

Joe is just more confused.  “I’m not following.”

“Mikey,” Patrick starts, and then busts out laughing so hard he can’t speak, breath coming in these little wheezes that make him laugh harder. Joe finds himself grinning along.  “Mikey,” Patrick giggles, “is—is—Mikey is Pe—” he can’t talk around the laughter in his throat.  He doubles over, shaking, and slowly lowers himself to the floor.  He gasps in a breath. “Pete’s boyfriend,” he chokes, breaking off to laugh some more.  He throws back his head, grinning crazily.

Joe starts laughing, too.  “I should have realized.  But I mean, Mikey’s pretty quiet.”

Patrick gives him a Look.  “Not always,” he snickers, breaking down in laughter again.

Surprised, Joe nearly chokes.  “Oh my god,” he groans, light-hearted.  “That was not something I needed to know.”  But he can’t help but laugh along.

When their mirth dies down, Joe reaches down to pull Patrick off the floor— _ we’re holding hands holy shit _ —and stumbles back when he yanks too hard and Patrick crashes into him.  Joe trips over a stray shoe, falling backward, and reaches out to grab onto anything he can get his hands on—which, incidentally, is Patrick.  He clutches at the front of his shirt, nearly toppling over, and nearly bringing Patrick down with him.

Patrick puts his hands on Joe’s sides to steady them, fingers splayed over his ribs.  “Sorry.  You okay?” he asks, face closer to Joe’s than it’s ever been before.

Joe can’t speak for a moment.  “Yeah,” he squeaks, extracting himself from Patrick’s grip before he does something stupid like kiss him.  He doesn’t even know if Patrick is gay.

Patrick is looking at him oddly.  “Yeah,” he repeats, plopping down on Mikey’s bed.  “Well.”  He pats the comforter.  “Thanks, Joe.”  A flush spreads across his cheeks when they make eye contact.

“No problem, Patrick.”  Joe smiles.  He watches fondly as the other boy curls up under his blanket, setting his beanie on the nightstand and his glasses on top of that.  Joe climbs back into his own bed, surprised to still find it warm, and falls almost instantly asleep.  For some reason, probably a Patrick-related one, he’s crazy happy.

* * *

Joe’s getting food three days later, just sitting down to enjoy his lunch in the student union, when Patrick surprises him by sliding in next to him.

“Oh,” Joe says, just about to shove a burger in his mouth.  “Hey.”  He puts his food down.  Patrick hasn’t talked to him much outside of the one class they have together, or Pete (who’s friends with literally everyone).

“Hi,” Patrick sighs.  He reaches over to steal one of Joe’s fries.  “Mikey’s coming over again later.  To ‘study’.”

“Sorry,” Joe says sympathetically.  “That sucks.”

“Yeah.  So.”  Patrick snags another french fry.  Joe watches maybe a little too closely when he pops it in his mouth.  “Can I stay over again tonight?”

“What?  Yeah.  Of course.”  Joe pushes the whole container of fries Patrick’s way, scooting over the little ketchup cup as well.  “Knock yourself out.”

Patrick’s noise of delight is the most adorable thing Joe’s ever heard in his whole life.  “Thank you!” he chirps, digging in.

Joe laughs.  “I think you would have eaten them all anyway.”

Patrick grins coyly.  “Maybe.”

Joe feels his face get warm and looks away.

“But seriously,” Patrick adds around several French fries at once--and oh god is Joe going to try hard not to think about what  _ that _ insinuates--and swallowing with difficulty-- _ too late _ \--so he can speak more clearly.  “Thanks for letting me crash at your place.  The floor in the hall is a cold and unforgiving mistress.”

Unable to help the grin that creeps onto his face, Joe ducks his head.  Patrick is honestly the cutest human being alive on the whole planet.  Including babies.  And you might as well throw in puppies because he trumps all of them, too.  “It’s no big deal.”

Patrick shakes his head.  “Yeah but thanks anyway dude.  No one else is letting me hole up with them.  And I swear I’d just sleep on the floor in the corner if they wanted me to.  I’d sleep in the closet.”

“The closet?” Joe asks, surprised.

Patrick nods.  “Yeah.  Even though I came out of there a  _ long _ time ago I guess I’d step back in for one night.”  Joe swears he sees him wink, but he looks back down towards his fries too quickly for him to be sure.  And is that...no, he can’t be blushing.

“Oh, yeah--I,” Joe stutters.  Did Patrick just say what he thinks he said?  Shit.  “Um yeah, me too.  I mean, I wouldn’t sleep in the closet--but.  Yeah.”  Well that was fucking smooth.

Patrick laughs softly.  “Alright.”  He smiles, gentle, and looks like he’s about to say something else before his eyes land on the clock on the wall behind Joe.  “Oh shit.”  He looks at his phone as if that will magically have a different time on it.  “I’ve got to go meet Pete to give him some notes before his next class.”  He abruptly stands and nearly falls over trying to get out of his seat.  “I’m okay!  Trust me!” he proclaims when he sees Joe reaching for him.  He stops for a moment to turn and grin at Joe.  “See you tonight.”

“Bye, Patrick,” Joe calls after him.  He can’t stop smiling.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for a drawer of Patrick’s things to form in Joe and Mikey’s room.  Maybe a week and a half, tops.  Pete and Mikey spend a lot of time... _ together _ .  Mikey raises an eyebrow when he finds it, looking for his phone charger--he’s always losing that damned thing.  “When can we expect the wedding invitations?” he asks casually.

Joe nearly chokes on the Coke he’s drinking.  “The hell?” he splutters.

Mikey gives him an appraising look.  “Who are you texting?”

“Patrick,” Joe answers immediately, the word sounding a bit like  _ duh _ .  His phone dings again, the bubbly personalized text tone chiming happily from the speakers.  A pleased noise escapes the back of Joe’s throat and he taps out a reply.  When he looks up, Mikey is grinning at him.  “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Mikey says airly.  “Just...you seem to text Patrick a lot.”

“He’s my friend,” Joe mutters.

“That’s what they all say,” Mikey replies mysteriously.  “That’s what  _ I _ said.  We’re always wrong.”

Joe stares.  “What?”

Mikey just laughs at him.  “Nothing.”

“No,” Joe protests.  “It’s something.”

“It really isn’t,” Mikey promises.  He pauses.  “At least...not yet.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Joe groans.  “You’re not the fucking Riddler just tell me what you’re talking about.”

Mikey rolls his eyes, curling his long fingers around his laptop and starting to leave the room.  “Honestly, Joe, people can see the way you look at him from outer space.  I’m not blind.”

“Patrick seems to be,” Joe mutters.  He doesn’t expect Mikey to hear, so he’s surprised when the other boy’s footsteps slow.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.  Joe looks up and watches as his face changes to something more teasing.  “But I really don’t think you have much to worry about.”

“What’s that supposed to--wait!”  But Mikey slips out the door before Joe can even get the rest of the question out.  Fuck all this, honestly.  What did Mikey mean by all that?  Surely Patrick doesn’t like him back.  He’s never said anything to him about it before.

Then again, Joe’s never said anything to him, either.  Joe groans.  Why is all this relationship shit so difficult?  Why does he have to like people?  At least he knows, through Pete, that he doesn’t have a straight crush.  Those are the worst.  There was this kid back in high school, god he was cute.  Looked mean but was actually the sweetest human being on the planet, a voice practically made out of butterflies.  He had a girlfriend though.  Which, Joe usually could hold out some hope that maybe he was bi or pan or something, but nope.  And it had been really fucking embarrassing finding  _ that _ out.

His phone ringing snaps him out of his frustration.  It’s Patrick, even though they’d just been texting.  He picks up.  “Parick?”

“ _ Hey Joe. _ ”

“What’s up?”

“ _ Nothing in particular.  I just don’t like to text and walk.  Are you in your room? _ ”

“Yeah.”

“ _ Cool.  I’m coming over.  Mikey just got here. _ ”

Joe huffs out a laugh.  “Good thing you got out of there quickly.”

“ _ Not quick enough _ ,” Patrick mutters, and then giggles.  “ _ God, they’re awful aren’t they? _ ”

“I guess,” Joe agrees.  He won’t admit it, but he’s kinda jealous of how in love they are.  It must be nice.

“ _ You guess? _ ”

Even though Patrick can’t see him, Joe shrugs.  “Yeah I dunno.  They seem happy.”  He snorts.  “But they can get a little over the top about it.”

Patrick’s quiet for a moment, and Joe has a wild crazy hope that he’s going to say he wants to be happy like that too, maybe with him, but then all he says is, “Yeah they’re practically fucking twenty-four/seven.”

Joe barks out a laugh.

“ _ What? _ ”  Patrick’s voice is mock-offended.  “ _ We were both thinking it. _ ”

“Okay yeah,” Joe admits.  “But still.”

“ _ Still what? _ ”

“Nothing,” Joe replies.  He doesn’t even know what he had been thinking.  Maybe that it was just so unexpected.  Actually, if he’s being truthful, he was probably thinking about something along the lines of how strange it is to see such a cute person cuss like a sailor.  Or maybe just how cute Patrick is in general.  Although, if you get him in the right mood, or the right clothes, it’s more like drop-dead sexy.  Just the other day, they’d gone out to celebrate for Mikey’s birthday--the more formal one that didn’t involve eighteen thousand of Pete’s “closest” friends--to some nice restaurant.  He’d worn a  _ suit _ .  Enough said.  Joe thought he was going to keel over dead from how gorgeous he was.

“ _ Joe? _ ”

“Sorry, what?”

“ _ Wanna let me in? _ ”

“Oh yeah,” Joe apologizes.  “One second.”  He gets up and opens the door and is rewarded with an armful of Patrick.

“Oh thank you for rescuing me,” Patrick proclaims, melodramatic.  “I thought I was doomed for sure!”

Even though he’s just playing around, Joe is still glad for the hug.  Patrick smells nice, like skin and detergent and touch of cologne.  He loves that cologne.  He’s a little sweaty, but Joe sneaks in another squeeze before releasing him.  “You’re welcome, fair maiden.”

Patrick sticks out his tongue, maybe leaving his hand a little longer than necessary on Joe’s arm before sliding off his backpack and taking out his homework.  He bounces onto Joe’s bed.  “Shut up.  And let me do my calculus in peace.  I need all the brain power I can muster up.”

Joe perks up at that.  “You’re still doing calc?  Me too--wanna work together?”

Patrick had frowned a bit at the  _ still _ but smiles at Joe’s suggestion.  “Of course.”

“Great.”  Joe pulls out his own homework and clambers up next to Patrick.  Patrick scoots closer, pressing their thighs together, so that their arms brush.  Joe’s not sure how he’s going to concentrate on his homework like this, but there’s no way in hell he’s moving farther away.

Patrick frowns down at his textbook and Joe can’t help but melt a little.  He wonders if this is what falling in love feels like.

* * *

Two weeks later, Joe’s watching a movie on his laptop when the knock comes, so he doesn’t hear it until the person starts banging, really going at it.  “Joe!” comes a faint voice.  Joe tears out his earbuds and slams the spacebar, leaping out of bed and practically flying for the door.

“Patrick!” he exclaims, trying to act like he didn’t just perform an Olympic event to let his friend in.

Patrick sighs and pushes past Joe, going to flop on his bed.  “We got some full-blown Petekey happening again.  And by blown, I mean  _ blown _ , like—”

Joe holds up a hand.  “I’m going to stop you right there.”

Grinning and slightly pink, Patrick tilts his head at Joe.  “But why?  Don’t you want to hear about all the  _ fun _ our roommates are getting into?”

“No,” Joe says firmly.  “I don’t, actually.”

Patrick shrugs and flips Joe’s laptop around.  “Whatcha watching?”  He stops before he can lift the lid from its half-closed position.  “I’m not going to find porn if I open this, am I?”

Joe snorts in surprise.  “No.  It’s Star Wars.”

Patrick lets out a noise of such delight Joe’s surprised he doesn’t just burst into flames right then and there.  “You gotta start it over I love this movie I wanna see please Joe please pleeeaasssseee—oh, you’re still on the opening crawl.  Perfect.”  He shuffles around until he’s comfortable, going to far as to scoot under the covers, and sets one earbud in his ear.  He holds out the other to Joe invitingly.  “C’mon, I’m not afraid to start it without you if you don’t hurry up.”

Joe grins and climbs onto the bed next to him.  At this point, Joe and Mikey and Patrick and Pete are only roommates according to the paperwork with their names on it.  Mikey spends all his free time over at Pete and Patrick’s, and Patrick does the same at Joe and Mikey’s.  Which.  Joe isn’t complaining.  Especially not when Patrick falls asleep halfway through the movie, head lolling on his shoulder.  No, he’s  _ definitely _ not complaining.

When the end credits start flashing across the screen, Joe gently shakes Patrick awake.  “Hey.  Rick.  Wake up.  Movie’s over.”

“I don’wanna,” Patrick mumbles, burrowing deeper into Joe’s side.

Joe pokes the side of Patrick’s face.  “You need to go to bed.”

“‘M  _ in _ bed.”

“ _ Your _ bed.”

“Mikey’s bed.”

“Mikey’s bed,” Joe amends.

“No point,” Patrick protests.  He reaches out to wrap his arms around Joe’s middle.  “Yr’so much more comforble.”  He noses Joe’s shoulder and is asleep again within a few seconds.  A few seconds where Joe’s lungs forget how to breathe and his heart forgets how to beat and his brain forgets how to think.  Surely Patrick had meant—his  _ bed _ was so much more comfortable.  Right?

“Patrick, seriously,” Joe whines, but Patrick doesn't move in the slightest.  Neither can he move; Patrick's arms are cinched tight around his middle.  “Fine, asshole,” Joe huffs, but he’s secretly enjoying it.  Actually, fuck that.  He's non-secretly enjoying it.  He's going to enjoy it all he wants.

Joe sets his laptop on the nightstand and reaches down for his blanket, pulling it up to cover their upper bodies.  It takes a while to fall asleep—Patrick motherfucking Stump is huffing adorably right in his ear, after all—but when he does he doesn't think he's ever slept so peacefully.  It's almost a shame to wake up, really.  Which he does, yanked rudely out of sleep by Mikey banging in through the door.

Patrick mumbles and presses closer to Joe’s warm side.  Joe glares blearily at his roommate.  “What the fuck?” he croaks.

Mikey is frozen, staring at the two of them.  “I could ask the same question, Trohman.”

Blinking slowly, Joe takes a moment to put together what Mikey’s said.  “What?  No.  We went to bed—we fell asleep watching Star Wars.”

Grinning, Mikey shakes his head and pulls a few clothes out of the closet.  “Sure.”  He throws one last smirk over his shoulder before he leaves.  “Suuurreee.”  The door slams shut behind him.

“Whazzis problem?” Patrick grumbles sleepily.

Joe shrugs.  “Hell if i know.”  He turns to look at Patrick, and— _ oh. _

Patrick has his chin hooked on Joe’s shoulder, eyes wide and nose a breath away from Joe’s lips.  “Joe,” Patrick says, soft, serious.

“Um.”

“Can you do something for me?”  His breath ghosts across Joe’s neck.

“Anything,” Joe breathes.  Sure, it might be a little cheesy, but he feels high on Patrick’s presence and is pretty sure he’d trim Patrick’s toenails if he asked him to right now.

Patrick smiles coyly, tilting his head, and Joe thinks he might pass out.  “...can you hand me my glasses?”

Joe feels like he’s been punched in the gut.  “Oh, uh, yeah sure.”  He fumbles for the lenses, which somehow magically have appeared on his side opposite Patrick, and hands them to him.

“Thanks,” Patrick says brightly, sliding them on.  “Now I can see you properly.”

“See me properly for wh—”  Oh.  Well.  That’s.  That’s  _ wonderful _ .

Patrick has cut him off with a kiss, pressing their lips faintly together.  Fireworks go off in Joe’s head, explosions of color and sensation.  Patrick smiles against his mouth and starts to pull away and nope Joe is having none of that.  He reaches up to cup Patrick’s face, opens his mouth to bite at Patrick’s lip.  The noise that escapes the other boy’s mouth is pure sin, sultry and dark and wanting.  He sinks back into the pillows, still sleepy and soft, and Joe leans over him, melting into the kiss.  Oh god, this must be what heaven feels like.

“Oh my—fuck you guys!”

Joe squeaks and nearly falls off the bed.  “Mikey!”

“And Pete!” Pete adds, peeking around the doorway.  He smiles when he sees them.  “Fucking finally.”

“I just wanted my phone charger,” Mikey laments.

Pete grins.  “Get a room, you two.”

“We  _ have _ a room,” Patrick retorts.

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Joe asks, a bit slow to comprehend what’s happening.

Pete rolls his eyes.  “You guys have been making heart eyes at each other all year.  It was only a matter of time before we found you guys sucking each other’s faces off.”

Mikey bats Pete’s shoulder.  “Hey, be nice.”

“I  _ am _ being nice.  This is me being nice.  See?”  He smiles.  “Nice.”

Patrick groans.  “Oh my god, Pete, just leave.”

“Yeah,” Joe says faintly.  He’s terribly embarrassed.

“Make us,” Pete teases.

Mikey slings a long arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder and grins.

Patrick’s voice goes low.  “I swear to god if you two don’t leave I’ll blow Joe right here and now.”

Joe swallows, throat suddenly very tight.  “Uh.”  He doesn’t remember being consulted for this.

“Pfft,” Pete scoffs.  “You’re bluffing.”

Patrick raises his eyebrows, and Mikey’s face falls into a more serious expression.  “Um, Pete…”

“You think so?” Patrick demands.  He practically dives at Joe’s pants.  Joe squeals, but the sound is lost amid Mikey’s screech and Pete’s scream.  “Fuck!  We’re leaving!”

“I told you!” Mikey shouts, and then their voices fade down the hall.

Patrick sits back.  “Showed them,” he says smugly.

“Uh,” Joe repeats.  He kinda has a...problem now.  “I have to—um.”

Patrick glances over at Joe and blushes when he realizes.  “Oh.  Well.  I mean, I was just kidding but.  I mean—If you want…”

Joe nods faintly.  Patrick smiles shyly, his eyes going a little darker.  “Well,” he teases, taking on an announcer-voice.  “Make sure you keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times and remember, no flash photography.  Now just sit back,” he sinks lower and makes eye contact with Joe, “relax,” he reaches downward, voice finally growing serious and husky, “and enjoy the ride.”

“Yeah oka—” Joe’s breath hitches and he decides that whatever he was going to say wasn’t really that important anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Drop a comment. :)


End file.
